


Humanity and Love

by Imer_Relgnap



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Comforting Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sad Sam Winchester, Self Confidence Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25016989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imer_Relgnap/pseuds/Imer_Relgnap
Summary: Sam wasn’t human. He knew this like he knew the lines etched on the back of his hand. The idea had been drilled, pounded, beaten, and tortured into him over time, until it was a core part of his thoughts and constantly in the back of his mind.Sam Winchester? Monster.But this time, Castiel notices Sam's declining view of his own self-worth. And this time, Castiel is tired of not being able to help.
Relationships: Castiel/Sam Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 73





	Humanity and Love

Sam wasn’t human. He knew this like he knew the lines etched on the back of his hand. The idea had been drilled, pounded, beaten, and tortured into him over time, until it was a core part of his thoughts and constantly in the back of his mind.

_Sam Winchester? Monster, bloodsucking freak. Abomination._

Once, Sam knew that he was human. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe that Azazel had dripped demon blood in his mouth when he was a baby, he just thought it didn’t matter that much. It was only a few drops, and more importantly, he wasn’t doing anything wrong with his powers.

The ‘competition’ for the title of Boy King shook that belief to the core. And then Dean died, and it didn’t matter what Sam said, or did. It just mattered that his brother was dead and he was alone in the world. He was the last of the Winchesters: Azazel’s plan had wiped out the rest of his family. He… definitely became less human than. He drank demon blood, because, well, it made it easier. Sam was desperate to find a way to bring back Dean. If he had just left the demon blood off to the side, and ignored that possibility, it would have felt like walking into a mission while refusing to use all of his weapons.

But the demon blood didn’t make Sam inherently evil, right? He was still a good man, he tried to help people, he believed in God. And when his brother came back, he tried, ok? He was working on getting off the demon blood because his brother had asked him to. He was trying.

He was trying, so, so hard to be human.

In that motel room, when he reached out to the angels he’d believed in since he was young, he was trying. ( _He was just… the boy with the demon blood._ )

He was still, a little over a year later, trying to be human. It was hard: Lucifer was on earth, the angels in heaven were rallying for the apocalypse, and Gabriel wasn’t planning on helping.

In a small part of his mind, Sam pondered over why the trickster/archangel had targeted him alone, at first. Was it because mentally, Sam was an easier target? Or maybe Gabriel liked Dean better, and didn’t want to hurt him? Maybe it was because Dean was the righteous man, Michael’s vessel, the son set on the right path. Maybe the archangel targeted Sam because he was destined for the dark path as Lucifer’s vessel.

Maybe Dean was just a better human than Sam. Sam, who was a monster. _A monster, a freak, boy with the demon blood, Blood sucking freak, I’ll KILL YOU, I’LL --_

Sam startled out of his thoughts when the warm weight of a hand came down on his shoulder. He looked up, his eyes skimming past the tan trench coat until they met Castiel’s blue eyes. The angel’s face was calm and smooth, but his gaze was heavy and sad.

“Why do you think such bad things about yourself, Sam?” he asked. His voice was perfectly even and level, as if it were just a question about the weather. Sam shrugged and shook his head, slowly, trying to find a way to voice his thoughts.

“I. I thought you couldn’t see our thoughts anymore, Cas,” Sam answered, deflecting away from the original question. He ducked his head, and tapped his hand against his side. “Don’t the sigils in our ribs, uh, block the noise or whatever? Stop you hearing them?”

“Sam, you know I am not used to human expressions,” the angel said, still with that smooth, measured tone. He reached down and slid his fingers under Sam’s chin, lifting his face till their eyes met again. "But, I often see you making a certain expression. One of guilt and shame."

The touch was odd, and weirdly intimate. It made a burst shudder down Sam’s spine, and made his chest warm. Sam clenched his jaw, trying to banish the inappropriate feelings. Castiel, angel of the Lord, would never, ever want Sam the way that Sam wanted him. And to even imply it, or hint at it… Sam wasn’t human, was less than a human. He was almost a demon, he was the boy with the demon blood, tainted and unclean. He was-

“There, Sam. That expression.” Castiel spoke again, but this time his voice was deeper, with a low thread of anger. “You consistently make that expression whenever you think ill of yourself.”

“Oh.” The hunter was slightly taken aback. He wasn’t exactly sure what to say. Did he try to explain that it was late, and he was tired, and his thoughts were a little less controlled than usual?

“I’m sorry, Cas,” he began, but stopped when Castiel actually growled, the angel’s face finally twisting into a semblance of an frustration. 

"You're apologizing without listening, Sam."

Before Sam could apologize, again, for somehow making Cas even angrier, the angel was moving, pushing Sam down and onto his side. His eyes widened as Castiel shoved the hunter’s legs up and onto the bed before roughly pulling the scratchy motel blankets across his prone form.

“You need sleep, Sam,” he growled. “But you are too busy thinking about my brother’s failures, and my own. Stop thinking now; I will guard your sleep.”

“Wait, Cas,” Sam said weakly. He wasn’t sure how to explain that Gabriel and Castiel had never failed, that they were right, without sounding pathetic. Castiel quickly solved the issue by actually covering Sam’s mouth with his hand, in the world wide gesture of ‘SHUT UP’. 

“No, Sam. Sleep,” commanded the angel. Castiel smiled as Sam swung his mouth shut and nodded. “Good. Sleep, and know that we were wrong to say that you were an abomination. We were wrong to make you hate yourself.”

Sam shuddered at Castiel’s words. He didn’t dare open his mouth and argue that, no, it was right, it was okay. He was a freak and tainted, and calling him human or worthy or good was wrong. He shuddered again as the angel’s hand moved to his hair, petting down and soothing him.

“You are good, Sam. You are loved, and you are kind.” Castiel whispered, and Sam’s eyes shut. He was too ashamed to look at the angel while being petted and soothed and warmly reassured of his own humanity. He took an unnecessarily sharp, jabbing breath in. 

“Hush, Sam,” the angel’s voice rumbled. The kindness and honesty in it subdued the tears before they could start. Sam kept his eyes closed, finally letting himself accept Castiel’s word, relaxing further into the angel’s hand.

“I was wrong to call you what I did. I was wrong, and I regret it, and I am sorry. We will work past it, together. I will not leave you alone to battle and fall to your own vicious thoughts. We will try, together, Samuel.”

\-------------

Sam might not be human, and it was hard to make him accept that he wasn’t a monster. But, he was trying.

They were trying.

**Author's Note:**

> I finally got around to posting this! This is my first work, so I'm still figuring out my style. Please let me know if you think I can improve, or if you any parts you specifically liked in this fic!


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